Third Time Lucky
by violets92
Summary: She was so going to kill him for this. A bit of ColbyMegan for the ones that love it. Pure fluff. You've been warned


Okay folks, this is my first real Colby/Megan shipper story, which means I'm a little apprehensive about posting it. That, plus the fact it's not at all angsty. No, it's pure fluff. You have been warned. I hope you enjoy though

Disclaimer: I do not own Numb3rs otherwise there'd be a hell of a lo more Colby/Megan.

Oh, and for the purposes of entertainment, we are completely ignoring Larry. No Larry/Megan here. Nup. None.

* * *

It had happened on a particularly important surveillance operation – well, she assumed it was important as _it_wouldn't have happened otherwise. They'd been standing outside a warehouse waiting for a drug dealer to make the deal. Standard situation…they'd done it a million times before. Watch, listen, and raid. Simple enough…there wasn't even any Kevlar involved.

Then again, nothing was ever simple anymore.

Of course, the dealers just _had_ to be Spanish, leaving only Colby to interpret what they were saying. Megan had no clue whatsoever was going on, seeing as both she and Colby couldn't see directly into the warehouse. This left Colby and Don to give her the instructions. When Colby gave her a subtle nod, she cocked her gun and prepared to move in.

She'd taken exactly three and a half steps before she felt him grab her arm and pin her to the warehouse wall. Her strangled gasp of shock went barely noticed by him.

"Colby! What the-"

"They're moving out." She swallowed at the sensation of his breath in her ear. "Might see us."

And then he was kissing her. Against a wall. In the middle of ten FBI vehicles. She tried to dim the flashing neon sparks in her head, but gave up when she felt his arms snake around her waist, enabling her to feel almost every one of his muscles pressed up against her. Megan couldn't quite help the small moan that escaped her and caused him to half-smirk against her mouth. She hated him. She really, _really_ hated him.

She was _so _going to kill him for this. Just…oh _God_…not while his tongue was doing _that_. And…_oh_…she swore her brain didn't just short-circuit.

Then suddenly it was over, and even though she'd heard the muffled voice of Don come through Colby's earpiece, she hadn't quite expected him to tear his mouth away so abruptly.

And the very pleasant tingling _so_ didn't mean that she wanted him back up against her again, pressing her to the wall…keeping her knees from buckling. Not at all…and the fact that she was panting had nothing to do with what he just did. It was just an adrenaline rush…caused by the operation of course. It had nothing whatsoever to do with him. Nothing. Zip, zilch, _nada_.

She heard Colby clear his throat awkwardly and move in. Moving beside him, she heard his breathing sharpen, and she wanted to smirk at the payback, but the yells of "FBI!" snapped her out of her thoughts and they got lost in the shooting and chaos.

She didn't see him again until they both left work at seven, standing awkwardly side-by-side in the elevator.

* * *

The second time it had happened, they'd been on a small undercover mission. Not the ones that generated months of speculation in the office, where agents had been rumoured to actually sleep together – but a small ten minute window where they had to pretend to be married. She'd long forgotten the reason why. All she remembered was a hotel reception desk and a bridal suite. And a shootout of course… because no mission could be completed without a shootout.

All they had to do was walk in, charm reception, and get the suite. It seemed easy enough. She never thought of the possibility of a public display of affection. Just act cosy enough and get the key card.

Oh how wrong she was.

The receptionist was a woman in her mid-thirties, maybe early forties. She'd looked tired and completely sick of her job when they first walked in, but the smile that lit up her face when Colby and Megan walked in had made her look years younger. Immediately, Megan knew the act required a bit more than holding hands. She'd just gotten used to the fact that Colby's arm was placed around her shoulder (and the shiver down her arm was just because it was cold…really…), when the receptionist steered the conversation in another – completely pointless – direction.

"So how long have you two been together?" Megan opened her mouth, but Colby beat her to it.

"Two years this weekend." He smiled and squeezed her arm gently. She desperately tried to hold back on her Krav Maga moves.

"Oh that's so sweet! My husband would _never_ remember our anniversary." She frowned thoughtfully, before shaking her head and smiling again. "So was it a summer wedding?"

"Yes. July fourteenth." Megan cut in this time and looked at Colby, leaning on his bicep a little. He looked right back at her and smiled, a twinkle in his eye that just screamed _"Danger!"_

"We wanted to get married as soon as we could. Isn't that right babe?" He flashed a charm smile at the receptionist. "It was two months after I proposed. I don't think I've seen anyone look as amazing as she did walking down that aisle."

Then he leant forward and kissed her. Again. With spectators. What was it with the man and public displays of affection? If she didn't know any better she's say it was borderline voyeuristic. Still, the jolt of surprise at his action surged right though her spine and she pulled back quickly, but softly enough so as not to arouse suspicion. If it wasn't for the almost deliriously happy receptionist, she would've slapped him into next year by now. Really.

"I'll just get you that card." She walked off behind the desk and the two were left alone.

Again, they cleared their throats awkwardly and said nothing. She almost considered talking out her gun and shooting him in the knees (for death was far too easy for this kind of torment), but she didn't really want to be fired for something that was definitely _not_ worth getting fired over. So instead she went for something a little more subtle.

"You are _so _dead Granger."

* * *

The third time it had happened, they were on a date. Not a fake date…a real one, and the reason why she was there had long escaped her. She couldn't quite figure out why she'd said yes, but she guessed it had something to do with the way he told her that he didn't want to have to resort to stolen kisses followed by days of awkwardness.

He took her to a French restaurant. If she were being honest with herself, it would normally seem like some corny, overdone scene in a chick flick, but she knew it was Colby's way of acknowledging a part of her that wasn't quite so damaged.

When he picked her up, he said she looked beautiful. She rolled her eyes, expecting some sort of rose bouquet, but when his hand emerged from behind his back, he was holding a bunch of daffodils wrapped in a deep purple ribbon. After recovering from her shock she'd asked him why he'd picked daffodils.

"I figured you weren't really into the whole bouquet-of-roses thing." He shrugged and she raised an eyebrow, knowing he wasn't saying everything.

"Fine. I should've known not to try and lie to a profiler." He smirked. "You're different Megan, and roses are just so…cliché. There is nothing ordinary about dating you, which is why I needed to skip the roses and go for something a little…happier. More you."

That was what made her do it. The fact that he wasn't just some other guy. That he acknowledged they were on more than just an ordinary date. That _they_ could be something different. She took the daffodils gently from his hand, placing them on her carpet behind her before wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him with such a gentle intensity that she thought she was going to pass out just from the emotion.

She felt him take half a step back before placing one hand on her cheek and the other at the back of her neck. She'd dated a lot of men that had physical strength, but none had ever felt as tender, as amazing as he did, pressed up against her from head to toe. Just as she thought she was going to die from sensory overload, his hand slowly moved down to her lower back and he pulled her in closer. She let out a small moan and he broke away gently.

"We should go. We were meant to be there ten minutes ago." His forehead was leaning against hers and he smiled that glorious half smile that made her weak at the knees.

"Just…two more minutes." He smiled fully and pulled her to him again, the kiss deeper, and it struck her that she really wouldn't want to be anywhere else but here, in the doorway of her apartment with a man she already adored.

Yes, she could definitely get used to this.

* * *

A/N: So...good, bad, awful, OOC? Reviews make my day. As long as they're not flames, I'm all good. 


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